


the art of decay

by charcolor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, uhhhhhh this is written in verse but idk if it's poetry, what do i tag this as????? Edgefest Supreme??????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17885063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcolor/pseuds/charcolor
Summary: the things that I've drawn





	the art of decay

**Author's Note:**

> (sorry about the weird spacing. this was copied and pasted from my google docs)

First,   
a papercut appeared on my fingertip

as I was drawing stick figures in crayon.

The narrow crimson stream

slowly pooled on the yellow paper.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew a flower.

 

Second,

bruises and abrasion appeared on my knee

as I fell off my chair while drawing flowers in pen.

Red slowly seeped through over the bruises,

like scarlet rain in a hurricane.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew a thunderstorm.

 

Third,

a stinging puncture appeared on my foot

as I got up from my chair while drawing a thunderstorm

and stepped on a pin.

Dark red dripped to the floor,

as slow as the painful tears breaking through my eyes,

forming a murky maroon puddle.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew swimming pools.

 

Fourth,

a cold metal blade intruded through my stomach

as I was drawing swimming pools safely outside

and a wanderer on the street was angered by me.

They left me to clutch my body,

as vermillion soaked through my clothing and fingers,

drizzling down to the ground.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew red velvet cake.

 

Fifth,

a flaming agony spread through my bones

as I was drawing red velvet cakes on a sturdy tree

and the tree branch gave way under me

and I fell harshly to the ground.

My right leg cracked and bled,

fractured and shattered into unstable pieces,

mangled on the rough icy grass,

staining it with the faintest tint of red.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew glass sculptures.

 

Sixth,

a stunning numbness captured my nerves

as I was drawing glass sculptures in the woodworking room

and I absentmindedly stretched my arm

while waiting to use the vicious saw

and it devoured through my skin, nerves, muscles and bones.

The color of roses splattered everywhere in a rotation,

all over the horrified, disgusted faces with bulging eyes.

The broken, empty, useless limb crumpled on the filthy tile

while the thick waterfall gushed from my bare shoulder

leaving dark streaks all over my side.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew colorful zebras.

 

Seventh,

a strained emptiness filled my body

as I was drawing colorful zebras shut away in my home

and I stood to find more colored pencils

but a new stranger had entered with a weapon

and they crossed my path and sliced open my stomach

and ripped out my intestines to dangle out onto the floor.

The deep, echoing shriek drove my attacker away again

as my insides spilled all over in mangled redwood

sizzling acid filling the cracks in between creaking planks

burning through skin and bone and wood and metal

while the organs remained limp, unused, at my feet,

and my body convulsed with pained panic.

It wasn’t deep enough to need a bandage.

I smiled and drew giant caterpillars.

 

Eighth, a pulsing void filled my vision

as I was drawing giant caterpillars in a locked, empty room 

with no friends, no enemies, no strangers,

yet a crowd of observers cheering and screaming and applauding

with no sights or sounds or pain or joy

yet too much vibrantly colorful flashing noise

and the cheers and screams and applauds became boos and gasps and insults

and the vibrantly colorful flashing noise became dull gray static

and so I mistakenly picked up my scissors instead of my pen

and trimmed away my optic nerves from within my cracking skull

and dropped my screeching, crying eyeballs to the cold granite floor.

I saw damp flashes of white and red and black

and felt slimy, salty metal streaming down my sunken cheeks

and the audience hollered and cheered again, louder than ever,

as the river flowed over my hollow, open torso

and through my vacant, tattered shoulder

and around my twisted, shattered leg,

and across my deep, gashed stomach

and under my punctured foot

and over my bruised knee

and into my papercut.

I want a bandage.

But I can’t stop now.

There’s nothing I can do.

This is what everyone in the world wants.

An eternity of suffering is worth an endless supply of creativity, achievement, and love.

 

I smile, through blood, sweat and tears,

and keep drawing.


End file.
